Flickering Lights and Whispered Words
by MoreThanSimplyWords
Summary: Jess and Rory trying to break down the walls of communication. Married Lit.


**A/N: It took me way too long to realize how much fun it is to write married Jess/Rory stories. Opens a whole new door of challenges. This idea popped into my head one night and this is what resulted. If it seems a little scattered, it's probably because I'm on the opposite side of the world than I usually am. Jet leg is not fun at all. Thanks for reading!  
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She had heard that married life was a challenge. It was now something she was considering a fact; one which she was experiencing with more frequency than she would like.

Nearly two years before, she had officially become Mrs. Mariano. While she couldn't even begin to describe the happiness that permeated every day, she couldn't deny the underlying issues. It had always been this way with Jess, and although she had known full well what she was getting into, the struggle of communication was one point in which they sometimes faltered.

She knew him well, better than anyone ever had, she supposed, but aspects of him were still a mystery. Finally, after two years of marriage, it was something she had grown to enjoy as opposed to letting it frustrate her. She had learned little things over the years, things that provided insight into the complex mystery that was Jess Mariano. Her old method of prodding hadn't done a thing, she realized. No amount of pushing and questioning would make him open up. It was just the opposite - a lesson she had learned the hard way. When he did let her catch a glimpse of his feeling, it was always in his own time and with just a hint of gentle prodding from her.

It was the nights in the dark that he spoke the most. Maybe it was something about the stillness; the cover that seemed to shield them from the outside world.

Those nights were quiet ones, as they sat exchanging soft words about the things they wanted more than anything and the things that haunted them in the middle of the night.

But for all she learned, there was always something lingering under the surface, something that puzzled her, though she often couldn't figure out why.

There was something different about the way he kissed her every time one of them left. Yes, his kisses were always amazing; always knocking her off her feet. But they ones he gave before saying goodbye - there was something special about them. They were the most tender and most passionate all at once.

He never failed to give her one before one of them left, even if they were fighting. Incidentally, the first time she really noticed something different was the same day their tradition started.

They had been newlyweds, and up until that point, all had gone relatively smoothly. When he walked in the door one Tuesday night, she noticed the tell-tale signs of trouble before he had said a word. She had tried to find out what was bothering him, but Jess, being Jess, wouldn't talk to her about it. Harsh words were exchanged on both parts, leaving her eyes red and his revealing even less than usual. Finally, she had shut him out herself, trying his method of using barricades to seemingly deflect all pain. It only left her feeling miserable and horribly lonely, even though he was only two feet from her the rest of the night. It was yet another thing about him she would never understand.

She had been rinsing her empty cereal bowl in the sink the next morning, trying to clear the drainage of tears from her eyes. From out of nowhere, he had come from behind, spun her towards him, and given her a long, slow kiss. Then, pulling back slightly, he breathed an "I'm sorry" so quietly she almost didn't hear it. And then he was gone. Between the stress and the apology that was just _so _Jess, the whole event broke the dam of tears pressing against her eyes. She spent half the day in a fog of confusion, frustration, and relief, before finally managing to push it from her mind. When he came home that night, it was like nothing had ever happened.

Two nights later, during a storm that threatened to shake the roof from the tiny house, the lights flickered, then went completely out. Jess' mood had been continuously more agitated, but she didn't press the issue in fear of another fight.

They sat on the sofa in the dark, leaning against each other quietly. An hour passed. He became restless, opening his mouth to speak and quickly closing it. She squeezed his hand once, letting him work through the tangles of thoughts on his own.

Finally, in a low voice, he confessed that his manuscript had been rejected. She could hardly find the words to comfort him, so she just sat quietly, arms wrapped around him and head resting on his shoulder.

In the morning, she found him slumped over his desk, evidence of revision apparent. She had smiled at the scene headed into the kitchen to make coffee.

Eight months later, his second book was published.

Those nights in the dark became a routine thing, whispered moments between them that shed light on the dimly lit corners of their lives.

She learned about his strained relationship with his father and the ever-present hollowness that had resulted from his absence.

He learned about her constant striving for perfection, the feeling of having it all stripped away under Mitchum Huntzberger's harsh critique, and how, years later, she was still struggling to maintain her previous semblance of self-esteem.

She even learned the real story of how he got the black eye when they were younger, a story which she made her laugh so much she fell off the couch. A rare blush had flooded his face and he quickly stopped talking, though she saw a good-natured smile flicker on his face.

He learned how she had stolen a boat, and his smirk had twitched until he buried his face into her shoulder, his own shaking with restrained laughter.

There were so many things she was learning, and so many she still didn't understand. And though she almost got up the courage to ask why he kissed her like he did, she never seemed to find the words.

They had been married nearly two years when the accident happened.

All she remembered was driving home from the grocery store, the rush of trees by her window, and then nothing.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a white room. Looking to the side, she spotted Jess. His eyes were red and he looked completely disheveled. Even so, a tired smile light up his features when he saw her looking at him.

"Rory." He stood up quickly and grabbed her hand.

"What happened?"

"You were in an accident."

She didn't remember much after that - it was simply a blur of doctors and tests and questions. All she knew was Jess' constant, steady presence beside her.

The hospital decided to keep her for observation over night, but Jess refused to leave her side. She didn't know what transpired, but he was allowed to stay. After the doctor shut off the lights and closed the door, Jess gingerly slide into the bed beside her.

A smile played on her features. "It's just like _A Walk to Remember_."

"Except you're going to be fine." His voice held a grave seriousness that was rare for him. She looked around the room. It was peaceful for a hospital, she mused. It was quiet, hardly smelled like antiseptic anymore, and only the faint glow of the monitor broke the darkness. Maybe it was how close she had brushed with death, or maybe she just got tired of waiting, but she finally got up the nerve to ask the question that had been nagging at her for ages.

"Jess?" She whispered.

He turned over to face her, their eyes barely meeting in the dim room.

"Before one of us leaves, you always kiss me goodbye. But it's different somehow. Why?"

He didn't answer for a while, obviously struggling to find the right words. But when he did, she was shocked at the answer that came.

He loved her. Wanted the last memories to be some of the best ones, just in case anything were ever to happen. All because he loved her.

He fidgeted as he spoke, the conversation clearly being much too sappy for his taste.

She, on the other hand, was completely still. His confession was so simple, so sweet, and so unlike him on the outside. Yet, in retrospect, she knew what resided inside him so well, she wondered why she hadn't guessed the reason sooner.

And all she could think about was how much she loved him back.

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_A/N: I'm definitely going to do a squel-type thing to this, showing the actual conversations and going much more in-depth. I already have some of them written, so they should be up shortly. And as a side note, most of the time I was writing this, I was listening to the song "Pain" by This Beautiful Republic. It's so good. So if you need any new music... _


End file.
